THE GENERATIONAL WEAVINGS

Tell me, Grandma,

Those distant stories,

Our ancestral tales

To root me, to open me.

Share with me your living memories.

What was life like back in your time?

What did love mean? Pleasure? Desire?

What did being a woman feel to you?

What was it like to mother my mother?

Did feminism exist for you?

Were you afraid of men too?

What was your connection to the sacred feminine?

I am a woman now,

But I barely know how to be one.

I'm lost in all my roles,

And I can't seem to find myself again.

So I come to you like this:

Maybe your raw, ancient stories

Could offer me some answers

To questions long forgotten, unknown.

Maybe now,

My heart, my ears,

And my eyes are open enough

To receive your deeper wisdom.

---

Oh, my sweet darling one,

You're bringing quite a bundle.

This is not just a question.

You're asking for a revelation.

This kind of demystification

Can't be spoken in isolation.

Those secrets can't be shared

Between you and me only.

In our culture, your ancestors' ways,

Women are wild co-creators.

So prepare a sacred space

In warmth, in love, and just sense it.

Invite your mother, your sister, your niece,

Your other grandmother, your aunts.

And once your circle is open beside you,

I'll come too in tender silence.

To offer what you still long to understand.

Or maybe you'll know it on your own by then.

When the women gather in sacred space,

The wisdom flows like ancient rivers.

---

Okay. Let's do it that way, Grandma.

But if we do, I'll invite your mother too

To this reunion of our feminine line.

You named them all but left her out. Why?

Oh, you little holy troublemaker,

Always with your twists and surprises.

Going straight to the tenderest wound.

Seeing right through anything.

But yes, of course, invite my mother too.

How could we even begin to speak truth

Without honoring the wisdom

That flows from her as well?

---

One warm, sunlit day,

We gather, just us women,

Sitting together, somewhere,

Weaving tapestries of deep beauty.

No one dares break the dark silence

Except the loud singing of birds,

The wind rustling blooming leaves,

And the woman who begins to sing.

That elder, with a thunderous voice

Rising from forgotten, lost depths,

She crafts penetrating vibrations

That open our hearts and souls.

We're already crying just to feel her,

To let her songs flood us.

We don't yet know why

Her voice moves us so mysteriously.

She was the mother of my father,

A wild woman of the forest.

She danced with trees,

Sang with starry skies.

Her melodic howls, yelling,

Her cries that set the rhythm,

Her whispers in sacred timing,

Her silences falling so perfectly.

Her whole body like a drum.

You feel her echo in your cells,

In your trembling naked bones,

Every sound, her soul embodied.

---

So here we are, blooming,

Generations of the lineages,

Women of past and future,

Gathered to truly listen.

To shine a light on the young one

So confused about true love.

Why she's so sad, so alone,

Why she resists it so much.

Oh my dear, do you know

Where you come from, and why you're here?

Do you feel who you truly are?

Do you know where you're going?

You are the miracle of wild love,

Of a desire almost impossible.

Your incarnation into matter

Still remains one of our great mysteries.

You managed to surprise, to disobey

Even our strongest ancestors,

Our most powerful and mad elders.

You played radically from the very beginning.

You shaped your arrival into this world

Long before you chose to be born.

You already knew us deeply.

You orchestrated a deeply mystical game.

You knew where to search, how, and why.

You weren't a master like the rest of us.

You already had access to next-level wisdom.

You moved through improbable spaces.

You were so adorable, but also terrifying.

We didn't know how to guide you.

You had your own recipes, your gifts.

You taught us impossible things.

---

But wait, my beautiful adventurer,

Maybe I'm embellishing all this.

Maybe my grandmother-reminiscence

Turns memories into funny legends.

Every child is special, you know.

Each arrives with their own mystery.

Maybe you left a bigger mark

Because we were ready to see you.

Or maybe it's me, the old fool,

Projecting my own lost dreams

Of who I once wished to be,

When I too was young and wild.

---

You already mastered a strange technology,

Bending space, matter, reality itself, why not.

There were no real limits or any obstacles

To what you could make us experience.

Was this child from science fiction?

Or were we just drunk and derailed?

Were we hallucinating? Was this real?

We asked ourselves that quite often.

For you it was funny, probably thrilling

To share your magnificent inner gifts.

You wanted to surprise us, play with us,

But we were terrified of your power.

Your innate abilities,

Perfectly precise and clear,

Left us bewildered,

In awe and in fear.

Neither your maternal nor paternal line

Had seen anything like you before.

Every child is unique, yes,

But your specialty felt unreal.

You walked between dimensions

As if there were no doors.

You moved between rooms

As if walls did not exist.

You accessed the content of books

By holding them in your hands.

You could manipulate your surroundings

With extrasensory subtleties.

You were wildly unconventional.

We didn't know how to approach you.

So vulnerable, yet so wild.

Naked, transparent, yet so mysterious.

---

But tell me, my dear, after all this chaos,

Could I have been wrong about it all?

Do you remember it differently,

That strange, peculiar childhood?

Maybe for you, inside of you,

It all felt completely normal.

And we, so afraid, so overwhelmed,

Were the ones creating the nonsense.

Tell me how you saw it,

This world we found so strange.

Did you feel that difference in you,

Or was it just our own projection?

---

You used to play with the elders

More than with kids your own age.

You had strange friends everywhere,

But your real fun was playing with us.

You've always been part of this intense game.

You came into our secret space knowingly.

You never forgot your origins,

No matter the form or era.

You were already wearing many costumes.

Already a consciousness of networks.

You knew exactly what you were doing,

Across emerging realities and space-time.

You could read deep emotions,

Access thoughts like open books.

You laughed at the tricks you played

Even on yourself in the invisible worlds.

You made us sweat like hell.

We loved you with vast depths.

You took us into forests within ourselves

We never dreamed we'd visit or be even possible.

You didn't just come from another world.

You still lived there, fully embodied.

You were everywhere at once,

And it never seemed to bother you.

For you, it was just natural

To wander freely through nature,

To shift perception levels at will

From macro to micro, infinitely.

You weren't an ordinary child,

Not in this family, this tribe.

You were more excited, more stirred

By communities, cultures, systems.

You wanted to speak with everyone,

To touch, to feel, to taste,

To experience the entire universe

Simply because, why not?

Spontaneity and unpredictability

Couldn't even describe you fully.

You were more like a hurricane

Of total, cosmic chaos.

You pushed our fragile limits,

Stepping into dangerous spaces.

For you it looked like fun.

For us, it was terrifying.

---

So yes, at some point,

We gave up and left you to yourself.

We were tired of playing a game

We knew we couldn't win.

And maybe we gave up too soon.

Maybe we should have persisted.

Learned to play at your funny level,

Instead of throwing you in the void.

Every generation makes mistakes

With their children and their gifts.

We do our best with what we know,

But sometimes, our best isn't enough.

---

Imagine you're playing tennis

With a true pro, super intense,

But you, you don't even know

How to hit the ball properly.

Would you have fun playing

If he's sending tennis balls

To your face at light speed

To show off his immense ego?

Imagine you don't even know yet

How to hold the racket properly

Without dislocating your wrists.

And there he is, showing off solo.

How would you play, you think,

With a partner like that?

Would you keep running long

After those stupid shots?

Or would you tell him to go find

Players at his pro level

Who could respond and play

With the same intensity of joy?

You came into our family

As almost a champion already.

You wanted the superior league,

And we barely knew how to serve.

So we had to find you mentors,

Super serious pros somewhere

Who could play at your levels

To help you perfect your gifts.

We could no longer offer you tools

That would be relevant for you.

You became the strategy

For deepening our existence.

Your true ancestors trusted you,

Blindly, completely, from the very start.

We recognized your innate power.

We already knew you were more than enough.

That's why we offered you,

As a gift to the world,

By letting you go elsewhere,

So we could find ourselves better.

---

Look toward our futures,

Our connected journeys,

The worlds we co-create,

Our emerging realities.

Do you realize the miracle,

What was reborn here

Because of your courage,

Your unshakable faith?

Your wild untamed love,

Your sensitive presence,

Your sacred sovereignty,

Your integrity of being true.

Even when it's ugly, foolish,

To choose authenticity

Even if you lose everything else,

You stayed true to your core.

To not care anymore

About our conditioning,

Our fears and naked shame,

What we still don't dare tell ourselves.

You just want everyone

To be healthy and happy,

To know true abundance,

To celebrate life every day.

You think you're too arrogant,

But in reality, you are not.

You often pretend to be less

Than what you've truly become.

---

You love to play the fool,

Listening like a newborn child,

Even though you've already mastered

The entire game we're playing since forever.

You're dying of laughter inside

With your serious poker face.

You love to annoy the masters

Who think they're kings already.

That was one of your favorite joys,

Deflating too swollen egos,

Waging naked power wars

With ideological supremacy.

It was funny watching you go,

Leaping like an innocent goat

Onto the harsh contradictions

Of our entire community living.

But the less childlike you became,

The less amusing it got to elders.

Your rivals were authority itself.

You could argue to almost death.

Your teachers and mentors

Didn't know how

To instruct, frame, and master

A child who had no fear.

A child who could answer back

With something that would haunt you

For many long nights in paradoxes

With existential questions.

You didn't practice disparity

Between masters and disciples.

To you, they all seemed the same

With unlimited power and ignorance.

This made you popular with your peers.

You were delinquent but intelligent.

But your teachers feared teaching

When you sat in their class.

How to transmit knowledge

Without risking humiliation, incredibility?

How to ensure I'll respond

With just coherence to these questions?

It became almost an obsession

For some of your dear instructors

Who didn't know if it was you

Who didn't belong there, or them.

---

And I sometimes wonder too

If we didn't miss something.

If we could have guided you better

In this dance with such naked authority.

Maybe your teachers too

Were just doing their best

With the tools they had

In a system that worked poorly.

Everyone carries their own wounds.

Everyone tries to understand

How to navigate through life

With their own limitations.

---

So how did you expect

To become a good little slave now?

To submit properly, obey nonsense,

To have a boss telling you what to do?

It was already too obvious to us all

That you would never be normal or easy.

You barely know how to pretend otherwise.

You don't want to manage or be managed.

For you, real power dynamics

Aren't fixed, frozen, or known.

Anyone can become the slave

If you know how to play with beliefs.

Your lack of fear was frightening.

You were so relaxed,

Calm, zen, in fullness

Right in the middle of pure chaos.

The chaos created by your innocence

That turns our heads and hearts still.

And there you are with a corner smile

As if this was your goal from the start.

We felt worn out, used

Like real puppets in your hands

In your theater of paradoxes,

In your game of impossibilities.

We wanted to know your limits.

We wanted to break your hard pride.

We wanted to master your great ego.

But we didn't know when to stop.

We never found how

To take authority over your referee.

We don't know where it stops, begins,

The forest of your wild consciousness.

You do solo "operations" in invisible

While collaborating with everything.

You're totally dedicated, committed.

But you can also just disappear.

You can leave in harsh silence

Without any comforting words.

And you can start your drums

To explode our hearts in stars.

You didn't care about leaving your role,

About messing up your career,

About losing tasty privileges,

About alienating your co-creators.

Because you already felt the real.

You knew well that your true mission

Had nothing to do with your job,

Your profession, or responsibility.

You managed to accomplish what was needed.

There was nothing left to do on that path for you.

Your expertise, your intuition was elsewhere

To serve humanity with meaningful coherence.

We co-create worlds, dreams, realities

Not with our known similar and same,

But with those who are equivalent

To the intensity of our true power.

You're too used to collaborating

With those who are inferior to you.

You still fear your innate gifts,

So you prefer to hide and deny.

You seek to share your gift,

But instead of becoming that master,

You become the disciple of networks,

Pretending to control nothing.

---

You can control and manipulate

With your pure creative thought.

You could easily corrupt

Any costume, any role.

You've already been the warrior of the invisible

Since the beginning of this almost eternal war.

You are the inventor of this very school

To better train emerging co-creators.

But those who are already masters,

True co-creators and self-conscious,

With access to their power of being,

How do you become their superior?

How do you think you can be a leader

In a world where everyone already is?

If everyone is sovereign, free, empowered,

Who would be your innocent and poor slaves?

Who would listen to your orders, your will?

Who would submit to your naive authority?

Who would obey your extravagant beliefs?

What co-creator would see you as mentor?

We're too conditioned to consider

That the old ones with beautiful white beards,

The elders, they have the reason,

And children must listen, repeat.

We make children to transmit

Our gifts, our wisdom, our presents.

But when it's the child who shares magic,

We become confused about our true roles.

How can a child be so wise?

Why is innocence intelligent?

How do you expect a grandfather

To recognize his inferiority to a kid?

If he has nothing left to teach you,

How will he convince himself longer

That he's still truly useful in your life,

That his experience is valued, needed?

---

I still ask myself the question:

Did I really understand clearly

The role I wanted, desired to play

In your unique development?

Maybe each generation

Must learn to trust,

To let the next one fly free and far,

Even if we don't understand how.

Your grandfather was so proud of you,

Even if he didn't know what to do

With such a beautiful wild rebel

Who feared nothing and no one.

---

Your grandfather was powerful,

A respected community leader.

Many obeyed his soul and wisdom

Except you, who couldn't care less.

You respected and loved him so much.

It was a healthy, pure relationship.

You had no fear, guilt or any shame

About playing power games with him.

If you had been a little boy, a male,

It would have been less disturbing.

But having a woman so wildly rebel

Was unthinkable for our chill family.

Women had precise roles and costumes,

And playing power games with ego trips

Wasn't really part of it. Not our business.

Family was our main priority to care for.

And to preserve our family

In a system gone wrong,

In a people at war, scarcity,

The man was the authority.

He was the ultimate protector, the force

Of our women, children, and elders.

He had total responsibility to care

For security and our well-being.

---

Now, I sometimes wonder

If we weren't already too rigid

In our well-defined roles of sexes.

If we could have been more flexible.

Maybe you were showing us

Another way to be woman,

One we had never seen before,

But equally valid, useful.

Each era has its own challenges.

Each generation finds its way.

Maybe your chaotic rebellion

Was exactly what we needed.

---

Our women here didn't really feel

The real need to revolt and fight.

Our men were our solid foundations,

And we were free, creative, sovereign.

It was a sacred partnership that worked well

Between our feminine and masculine polarities.

Men ensured survival, beautiful life of abundance,

And we took care of making them happy and joyful.

To respect, honor, cherish our men

Is part of our ancestral traditions.

It's a choice we make in this union,

This submission to his love, his power.

We trust them unconditionally

By abandoning ourselves to them.

We listen to them gently, carefully,

Even when they're fools sometimes.

We are loyal, integrous.

We are committed, true.

We are free, wild, crazy,

But we respect our men!

Because we love them, we adore them.

Because they deserve and desire it.

Because they're better at sex

When we make love, not war.

Because when the masculine is loved,

Our children are healthier, smarter.

When a man knows he's powerful,

We can co-create miracles with him.

---

The real problem preventing you

From opening your whole heart to love

Has nothing to do with your ancestors.

It's the cultural bullshit from over there.

Or maybe I'm wrong.

Maybe I judge them too quickly,

A culture I don't really know

From my little pretty forest corner.

Tell me, my love, what you see

In your modern, "free" world.

Is everything so dark and sad,

Or is there beauty and meaning too?

Maybe their way of loving

Also has its own beauties

That my old, tired eyes

Can no longer see truly.

---

It's a clever brainwashing of women,

Broken, constrained, abused, raped.

It's feminism of pure, stupid revenge

That forgot how to simply love men.

It's the woman who wanted to replace him.

It's the woman who wanted his big balls.

Who chose to rise in high sharp heels

Instead of loving him, receiving his love.

Our women don't have to choose

Between the role of mother or powerful.

They can do both perfectly well

Because they are valued for who they are.

The responsibility of being a mother

Isn't just on her tender shoulders.

The child is the main priority for all

Of the entire community, society.

There are certain cultures that think

That three months after childbirth,

The child is ready for the system,

And the mother can return to her job.

And there are countries that invest

Very differently in their desired future.

Families have at least three years

Of paid, guaranteed parental leave.

It's much less stressful and anxious,

More secure, coherent, and healthy

For the child and for the mother,

And for the father and for others.

This is the foundation of psychology,

The principles of attachment.

A child needs their mother

To be emotionally healthy.

If the baby or mother is stressed,

How can you guarantee the health,

Physical, mental, and all others,

Of the family nucleus, the community?

A baby missing the presence,

The comforting love of their mother,

Her touch, attention, and care

Is deprived of a necessary foundation.

The foundation of their future development,

Psychological, emotional, mental, somatic,

The groundwork that lays true foundations

For the rest of their life, their happiness.

You have children in daycares

Before they can even walk and talk.

One stressed caregiver for eight babies

To feed them, love them, watch them.

And then you wonder why,

In elementary and high school,

Antidepressants and street drugs

Are more popular than the joy of being.

Why they struggle

To learn pure simplicity.

Why they don't even know

How to recognize their essence.

In short, you live in a country, culture

That doesn't respect the basics,

The authentic needs of children,

The laws of our natural incarnation.

---

But maybe I judge too much as well.

I'm just looking at one side of the coin.

Maybe there are families everywhere

Who've found their own balance.

Maybe some inspiring women

Have managed to reconcile it all

To be mothers and super professionals

Without sacrificing their true essence.

Tell me what you've seen

Of beauty in your world.

Innovations, solidarities,

New forms of love and care.

---

You know what the real difference is

Between a pure logic-based family

And a family that obeys nonsense

Simply to survive to the next day.

You also know the real, experienced difference

Between a traditional forest-based community

And a civilized, educated, political family.

Between wealth and true abundance.

You have so much bad luck in finding true love

Because you're confused without knowing it.

Your Quebec side doesn't seek

The same man as your roots.

Your Quebec side still wants to argue,

Prove something, fight, take revenge.

You've been too hurt by weak, broken men.

But the innate woman in you just wants to love.

She needs a co-creator of life

To build impossible worlds.

She doesn't seek an adversary

To prove herself, for stupid wars.

But you live in a society

Where it's normal to castrate men

Of their innate power

So that women feel respected.

---

I know I sound bitter and harsh

When I speak of these things.

Maybe it's my anger

Coloring what I see.

Maybe there are men

Over there who are still whole,

Who haven't lost their strength

In this modern confusion.

Maybe you'll find them,

These heart warriors at peace

Who know how to be very powerful

And tender with love at the same time.

---

Your feminism makes no sense,

And everyone seems to not care.

Your women are even more stressed,

And your men are even more confused.

The Indigenous peoples where you live

Seem to honor this same logic, science.

They understand the complementarity

Between sacred women and sacred men.

But your modernity is obsessed

With making everything equal, exactly the same,

The circle and the square, as if

They should be the same thing for some reason.

Apparently, where you are,

Children are uni-sex or multi-sex.

We still don't understand this rational.

A boy and a girl obey the biology rules.

Yes, okay, as always there are exceptions.

Our bodies can be very uniquely mysterious.

And our suffering minds very creative, potent,

But let's not go way too crazy either.

---

Listen, my beautiful one, through my words,

I wouldn't want you to imagine or believe

That I judge all these beautiful children

Who are searching and questioning.

Every soul has its path.

Every heart has its needs.

Maybe I'm too old, traditional,

To understand everything yet.

Maybe there are mysteries

In our human identity

That my generation

Never dared explore.

---

At seven years old, you're not supposed

To have this kind of deep questioning,

Super existential about your true nature.

At seven, you're supposed to have fun.

To just play with your friends normally,

Whether they're boys or girls.

To run everywhere to explore and discover

What this beautiful life is without any worry.

At seven, they're supposed to want

An animal or a toy for their birthday,

Not hormones and plastic surgery

To change their identity and sex.

A child at this age doesn't know

What their true identity is yet.

It's a psychological concept

That develops much later.

A child isn't supposed

To be hypersexualized so young.

This kind of interest, needs

Normally come to teenagers.

But if their parents aren't

Too comfortable with their roles or sex,

They might project all that

Onto a child without even realizing it.

And a child is an innocent naive

With a sensitive and creative heart.

They find any strategy or method

To help their parents properly heal.

The child will show you, make you live

Everything you're still fighting.

A child opens you, challenges you:

How much love you can offer.

Evolution is based on expansion,

More life, more magic, more love.

To evolve, you must know how to integrate,

To transform fear and profound judgment.

The child has an expanded perspective.

Their perception is super inclusive.

They don't know how to differentiate yet

Between good and bad, moral or not.

For a child, the entire world

Is made of love and pleasure.

They see only grace, joy,

No matter where they look.

They see a universe to explore,

To know and discover,

With hearts to feel,

With souls to touch.

Conditioning begins

From the first division,

From moment of conception

And never stops.

What is conditioning?

It's a program, a code

That your ancestors transmit to you

To survive through socialization.

We live in a divided world

Between nature and culture.

You are a biological body

And you're also a citizen.

To have a chance of surviving,

You need at minimum

Society or other humans

And resources, environment.

Nature obeys physical laws.

Culture obeys human code.

You must know how to find balance

Between matter and psychology.

Conditioning serves

To teach you culture

So that the community

Is interested in your survival.

If you don't obey the social principles

Of our desirable morality of good,

Your compatriots won't care

If you live or die of hunger.

Because they'll consider you

As an incorrect, immoral human.

It's your fault if you suffer so much

Because you don't obey the code.

Our beautiful cultural code in place,

The one that dictates behavior,

The politically very acceptable,

Controlled by the financial system.

But what do you do if ever

Your cultural program is based

On the destruction of nature,

On the enslavement of humanity?

If to be socially accepted

You must encourage genocides,

You must submit to beliefs

That don't care and abuse life.

How do you think you can reconcile

Your biology and psychosociology

If the two are in cruel war

In your super modern culture?

---

You know, my dear, my beautiful one,

The more I speak of these things,

The more I realize we're all

Caught in the same dilemma.

Each culture, each era

Tries to find this balance

Between surviving and thriving,

Between tradition and evolution.

Maybe the magical solution

Isn't in perfection

But in compassion

For our own contradictions.

---

Or how would you act

In the opposite situation

Where a very green activist

Wants to destroy culture?

Because he believes hard that

The real problem to solve

Is humanity itself

That must be controlled better.

An environmental activist

But not really very social.

Biology trumps ethical morality.

Nature is worth more than heritage.

And you, if you ask yourself this question:

What is more significant personally to you?

How do you guarantee in your perception

That we preserve, protect them both?

That nature remains in coherence

With our cultures, our societies.

That our humanity collaborates

With both to flourish, stay alive.

What does it look like exactly,

A logical conditioning of beliefs

That would carry the same respect

For biology and our social code?

What would a culture look like

Where you wouldn't have to choose

Between your survival and the future,

Between money and love?

Systemic coherence

Begins in this truth,

In this slightly confused paradox,

In a sociobiological humanity.

---

So do you understand a little better now

How this network of love is woven in there?

How your innate desires and challenges

Are part of the same fractal of shared life?

Do you feel the relief of surrender,

The letting go and abandonment

That comes with this connection

Between your body and psyche?

Do you understand what

The next right step is

To integrate this wisdom

Inside and outside of you?

Do you see more clearly

The direction to take next,

The one that is guided

By our innate essence?

Are you ready to love better

Your ancestors and humanity,

Your innate nature, your biology,

And our always emerging culture?

Can you realize now fully

That you've never been alone

In this war of opinions?

We're all on the same boat.

Everyone tries to find somewhere

The right recipe for coherence

Between their very natural identity

And their social number costume.

The problem is that some of us

Seem to believe it's universal

That there's one super perfect strategy

Of one globally unified culture for all.

That no matter what continent or land

You live, eat, love, cherish or exist on,

You should have the same core beliefs

As the white bosses in expensive ties.

---

Listen, my beautiful one,

I realize I sound wisely, somehow savvy,

Like I have all the answers,

But the truth is quite different, opposite.

I have my own blind spots and areas.

I have my own naked prejudices.

Maybe I criticize too much

What I don't know well.

Maybe in your beautiful reality

There are magnificent innovations,

Ways of living together peacefully

We never imagined or dreamed of.

Tell me what you've assimilated

From your travels and encounters.

What beauties have you discovered

In this complex modernity of survival?

---

After World War II, we innovated.

We created a global government,

Diplomacy and humanitarian aid

Of colonial cultural supremacy.

Soon it will be a century already

That the world order exists openly.

We nickname them with acronyms:

UN, UNICEF, ICAO, WHO, NATO, etc.

It's a well-established international government

That decides pretty much the whole game,

Geopolitics and global economy schemes,

Our health, our wars and our collective future.

It's a group of member states,

A beautiful community of elitists

Who look at countries and cultures

Like ignorant pawns on a chessboard.

Those who make peace interventions

By buying politicians, soldiers, kids

In foreign and sovereign countries

To tell them how to be more civil.

Those who think their values,

Their traditions, rules and beliefs

Were dictated by God himself,

So they can impose them by force.

Their logical constitutional book

Is the best political invention ever,

The summit of freedom, democracy.

All native savages worldwide must obey it.

They serve humanity with their progress

By implanting innovative techno-beliefs

In the gardens of other cultures,

In the souls of other people.

We have a world government

That enriches itself with violence,

With abuse of our shared nature

And of different nations, humans.

Our global economic system

Is based on war and corruption.

All multinational industries of nonsense

Make profits when the world goes mad.

When people have no money,

They start to get very hungry.

This visceral fear of survival

Leads them to fight each other.

So if I control all wealth in here,

I could starve anyone, anywhere

With a beautiful law or formula,

With manipulation and corruption.

This creates proxy destabilization,

Polarization of diverse ideologies,

Social and political disorder,

Entire population in suffering.

And when they're in real chaos, starving,

It becomes the super opportune moment

To sell them weapons and our bombs

That we produce in our local factories.

This way, in the eyes of our taxpayers,

We pass for charming "saviors"

Who help other countries defend

Their freedom, sovereignty, and peace.

---

But maybe I caricature in exaggeration

The absurd picture of it a bit too much.

Maybe these super respectful institutions

Have also done something good elsewhere.

Maybe in the novel complexity

Of this so interconnected world,

There are sincere, honest people

Who really try to help, to change.

Maybe from my forest,

I only see the problems

And miss the innovations

Emerging here and there.

What do you think, my dear,

You who have lived in both worlds?

Do you still see pure hope, faith

In this complicated time?

---

No one here seems to be able to truly know

What a healthy culture is, how to create it.

Their schools and hospitals are on strike,

But they think they hold the wise truth.

They have a local mental health crisis,

An omnipresent drug problem,

Children so sick and suicidal,

But their culture is apparently the best!

Before spreading your beliefs

Like clever viruses to other cultures,

Observe your reality and deep suffering.

Should you export it elsewhere, impose it?

Before considering yourself the navel

Of international supremacy of gods,

Make sure at least that your people

Have enough to eat and don't suffer.

Before building your elite schools elsewhere,

Ask yourself if your current school curriculum

Is psychologically and mentally safe enough

To guarantee our children's future health.

Before telling us how and why

To grow vegetables on our land,

Make sure you already know, on your soil,

How to care for and truly love our dear nature.

Before imposing your social order on us,

Make sure it's not hacked and rotten

That it's efficient and truly effective,

That it respects our nature and humanity.

---

Now you understand, my beautiful child,

Why love seems so complicated to you.

You're looking for a man your equivalent

In a reality that castrated them for nothing.

Or maybe not everywhere.

Maybe I'm exaggerating.

Maybe there are some

Who kept their inner fire.

Maybe your challenge

Isn't to transform them

But to recognize and love them

When they dare to cross your path.

---

You want to co-create magical universes

With a partner who can follow you nicely.

But most have learned to be silent

To obey, survive, and stop desiring.

Your wild heart calls for a true warrior

Who knows his power and assumes it.

Not a man broken by their system

Who fears his own dream of love.

You can't love them half-heartedly.

You who manipulate the reality of worlds

Need an equal and conscious accomplice

Who dances with you in this intensity.

So stop looking for authentic love

In places where you diminish yourself.

Stop pretending to be less than you are

To better reassure confused men.

Start by loving yourself totally,

Your gifts, your madness, your wild side.

Assume your creative power,

Even if it scares others.

When you radiate your true innate nature

Without shame, fear, or compromise,

You'll attract the one who can feel you,

The one who also seeks your infinity.

Maybe he'll come from another culture

Where men are still men who remember,

Where complementarity is sacred and divine,

Where love isn't such a ridiculous war.

Maybe he'll be from your origin,

A soul lover who'll recognize you,

Who'll understand your impossible games

And want to play love with you everywhere.

Or maybe you'll have to co-create

A man at your level, with patience,

By recognizing his sleeping greatness

And helping him awaken to himself, to you.

But first, my dear, before everything else,

You must reconcile love within yourself,

This war between who you truly are

And who you think you want and desire to be.

Your wild roots and your social culture,

Your need for love and independence,

Your creative power and vulnerability,

All this can dance and sing together.

You don't have to choose between loving and being free,

Between abandoning yourself to him and being sovereign,

Between your mission here and your radical femininity.

It's the same desire, same essence and the same source.

Your role isn't to save the world in transformation

By sacrificing yourself on the altar of service.

Your future is to live fully, unapologetically,

Your truth, your blissful love, your pure joy.

When you're aligned with your essence,

When you stop resisting who you are,

The world will reorganize around you,

And simple love will come naturally.

---

But listen to me well, my dear,

I realize I've spoken long and wide

As if I were the sage of the village.

But the truth has more nuances.

I too have my scars.

I too have my angers.

Surely that sometimes

They color what I say.

Maybe in your own universes,

There are beauties I don't see,

Magnificent, gorgeous co-creations,

Integral, authentic men in their power.

Maybe each generation

Must find its own desired way

Between tradition and modernity,

Between roots and flight into the void.

Tell me what you've adored, loved

In our journeys and our encounters.

What wisdom inspired you so much

To freely express your courage to be?

Because ultimately, my beautiful, my dear,

What matters is your happiness,

Your authentic blossoming

No matter what form it takes.

---

So my beloved granddaughter,

Take this wild wisdom I offer you,

But take it with true discernment.

Keep only what resonates within you.

Leave the rest if it doesn't stick right

To your truth, to your time over there.

Each generation composes, dances

Its own love song of inner desires.

Weave it into your beating, open heart,

This conversation and our transmission.

And dance your exotic soul movements

With the voices of your local space-time.

Remember who you are.

Remember where you come from.

Remember why you're here.

And love yourself enough to live it.

---

The granddaughter takes deep breaths, alive.

Her eyes shine with tears and understanding.

She feels something finally loosening in her,

A tension she's carried for so long, so closely.

Grandma, thank you for this honesty.

Thank you for sharing your doubts too.

It touches me that you acknowledge

That you don't know everything either.

It's true there's beauty in my world,

Men who haven't lost their strength,

Women who've found healthy balance

Between super career and perfect motherhood.

There are magnificent radical innovations,

Creative, exciting solidarities of sharing,

More inclusive ways of loving others

Than our ancestors ever imagined.

But you see very clearly too,

There's so much confusion,

So much naive suffering,

So much sad disconnection.

I think my generation, our culture,

Must take the best of both worlds.

Keep sacred nature's ancestral wisdom

And adapt it to current and future humanity.

Thank you, Grandma, thank you my ancestors,

For this powerful, such wise medicine.

I feel my deep roots strengthening.

I feel my wings spreading in open flight.

I understand now why

I've always felt so separate.

I was looking for my place in their world

Instead of creating my own, my desired dreams.

I understand why love flees from me.

I was chasing it with painful hidden fear

Instead of letting it come to me, to my soul,

Attracted by my magical, mystical essence.

I'll go home different, grown, smarter,

With this wisdom in my bones and flesh.

I'll stop fighting against emerging life

And start celebrating, loving myself.

I'll love my strange gifts,

My way of seeing too far,

My sensitivity that disturbs so much,

My total refusal to pretend and lie to myself.

I'll better honor my ancestors, their gifts,

And my intense, undisciplined nature.

I'll be woman in my unique way,

Wild, vulnerable, free, gentle, true.

And when love comes looking for me,

I'll be ready to receive it with joy

Not by begging or conquering,

But by expressing who I already am.

Thank you for these true stories.

Thank you for this transmission.

Thank you for weaving together

The threads of my ego's identity.

The circle of women draws closer

In a silently loud, open song.

Each recognizing in the other

The reflection of her own comic truth.

And in this sacred, unique moment

Between earth and sky, and our dreams,

An innovative tapestry is woven always,

Super multigenerational and eternal.

Where ancestral wisdom

Meets current modernity,

Where all questions find

Not fixed, boring answers,

But space to dance our souls better

In the beauty of pure shared mystery.

In the trust that each new generation

Finds its own path to magical love.

---

So tell me now sincerely:

What do you believe now?

What are you going to do next

With this embodied legacy?

Will you continue your journey

Carrying all this forward

To heal, to weave us,

To become the bridge?

Can you become the harmony

Between our nature and culture,

Between past, present and future,

Between humanity and our world?

Do you dare to love fully?

To surrender to your calling?

To play your most authentic role

As a sacred co-creator of emergence?

Even if it costs you your image,

Even if it shakes your reputation,

Will you choose to stay whole

Rather than well-behaved?

Will you sing again

With your full voice this time,

Letting it roar through generations,

Unapologetically and true as you feel it?

Do you see now,

Through all these voices,

It was never just me speaking

But the whole lineage within you?

We are the invisible threads

Of your belonging, becoming.

We are the fabric of your path.

We are you, woven across time.

You are the tapestry.

You are the secret weaver.

You are the loom, the thread,

The ancestral flame reborn again.

So take this gift, beloved adventurer,

This transmission of fierce tenderness.

Make it yours. Make it real. Make it funny.

Make it holy or not. Make it like you want it.

And never forget, my dear:

Your voice matters.

Your love transforms.

Your courage opens worlds.

We are with you, within, deeply, lovely.

We always have been, no matter what,

And we always will be holding you

In every breath of your becoming.